


Lacquer

by MrMissMrsRandom



Series: Wrath and Rage [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Burns, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMissMrsRandom/pseuds/MrMissMrsRandom
Summary: Tine thinks about what it means to be a sibling.
Relationships: Celice | Seliph/Teeny | Tine
Series: Wrath and Rage [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727434
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Lacquer

Tine found herself once more in a war camp. However, unlike her experience in the fields of Alster, she did not have a personal tent or a unit under her authority. Instead, she was simply another soldier in a fleet of few. Though she knew she would rather be here than still under the thumb of the Friege army and Uncle-- Lord Bloom, the change in her position made her even more nervous. She had been around armies since she was a small child, and knew what it took to have an efficient one. The Liberation Army had morale on their side, but very much else to make successful warfare. When comparing her lessons on statecraft, it was surely a miracle that they had been able to reclaim Isaach. 

Though their numbers and the number of holy weapons among the troops had grown, Mystletainn and Balmung could not stand up against Mjolnir’s wrath…

Tine wrung the ends of her gloves, feeling skin under them itch. 

She wished Arthur had let her go with him to the Arena. Even if he told her it would be too ‘gruesome,’ she had seen battle before! She had participated in battle! It couldn’t be more gruesome than that. They had only been reunited for a week, and save for when fighting had hardly left each other’s side. Save for Sir Seliph, she had not spoken much with anyone else in the Liberation Army, and felt like she was watched constantly. It made sense: she had been an enemy and could have killed one of them or she would have been killed if Arthur had not interceded when he saw her pendant. 

And how Lord Bloom reacted when he saw her, it was like he received the news that Ishtore had died. All over again. If her whole family save for her brother hated her, why would anyone else want to interact with her unless they were forced to?

Tine had been so focused on her worried that she didn’t even notice how she walked out of the war camp, until she was heading for the grassy hills around Alster and someone called out her name. She didn’t recognize the voice at first, but she turned around to see Sir Seliph running towards her. She quickly bowed, as was proper, hoping that she hadn’t done anything to anger anyone, and the head of the army had to tell her. Sir Seliph had better things to do than handle her mistakes. 

“Lady Tine, are you alright?” He asked, voice slightly out of breath.

“I am. I… um, I apologize, Sir Seliph, but was there something you needed?” 

“Oh, that’s good. That you’re alright,” Seliph replied, before closing his eyes for a moment in pause. Forgive me, it’s just… well, you seemed to be thinking of something, and I was worried that you might walk all the way to the Yied Desert at that rate.”

“What? But that’s…” Tine then realized it was an expression, and not that she would literally walk all that way. She felt her face heat up. “Once more, I apologize for my behavior, my brother went to the Arena, and I… did not know how to spend my free time.” She pulled at her gloves again. “I should have asked if there were any tasks I could assist with, instead of acting so childish…” 

“Lady Tine,” Sir Seliph patted her arm and she schooled herself not to flinch. Unlike her, he kept his gloves put away outside of battle. To conserve them, most likely. She should switch to bandages herself to conserve them. Without them, she would be susceptible to more magical backlash. “You are a member of this army, just as much as everyone else. Has anyone made you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that! It’s just…” Tine looked to the side. “I’m not… used to interacting with many people my age, and… I’m part of the enemy. I was raised by them, and I don’t,” She took a deep breath. It was better to say it, clear up the confusion. “I don’t wish to make anyone uncomfortable.” 

Seliph was silent for a moment, and Tine braced for the response. She didn’t know what would be worse: a confirmation that her thoughts were in the right place, or an overly optimistic dismissal of them. Strangely, he did neither.

“Lana and Julia are sorting through our current medical and healing supplies. It seemed like they might need some help there. Do you have experience in an infirmary?”

Tine blinked. “A little, I suppose. I have some training.” Because of her philanthropy, people in Alster and surrounding villages would ask for her if they could not afford a regular healer when their child was ill or an infection had spread. The last choice, but at least a choice. “I can be of use there.”

Seliph nodded. “Then let’s go and see them.”

They walked back to the camp and headed for the infirmary. For some odd reason, Tine did not feel the weight of eyes on her anymore. Was it because Seliph was with her, or had her nerves conjured that feeling?

When they arrived, the infirmary was in what could best be described as controlled chaos. Dozens of boxes littered the floor, a majority of them already filled. Julia was kneeling on the ground to inspect a collection of vials as Lana took a tally of what gauze they had on hand. They were so immersed that they only looked up when Seliph made a small noise.

“Ah, Seliph!” Lana smiled, and smiled larger when she caught Tine’s eye. “What brings the pair of you here?”

“Oifey and Lewyn have finished debriefing for the day, but Lady Tine and I would like to be of help. Like Edain says: no use for idle hands.” 

“Mm, Mother is certainly right about that. Pull up a seat. Lady Tine, could you help Julia with the tisanes?”

They spent a few hours doing the work. Sure enough, with more hands, it went by much faster, and when they work was done, Lana offered for them both to stay for tea, but it was different from the usual blends she grew up drinking in Alster. It was milk-based, and had an interesting edge in the flavor. The tea leaves included were also a bit more bitter, but partnered with the milk, everything seemed to work in harmony. It was a common tea beverage in Isaach, apparently.

For the first time in a long while, Tine felt like she had… fun, with a group of people. She knew that she shouldn’t get comfortable too quickly, but maybe it was okay, to have an afternoon like this where she didn’t feel too big or too small in a place, but just right. 

Later that night, Tine woke up after nodding off when she heard someone walk into the tent. She looked up and saw Arthur with parts of his robes stained, and an ugly gash on his shoulder. 

“Brother!” Tine began looking through her supplies to try and find an herb or gauze that might help. 

“Tine, you shouldn’t be up so late,” Arthur said. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding, we have to get you to the infirmary!” Tine urged him, but Arthur sighed and pulled her into a side hug on his good side. He smelled like ozone, a similar smell after powerful magic spells. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Most of the blood isn’t mine,” Arthur replied, voice far too light, as he flashed her a near manic grin in the moonlight. “I won. Just need to bandage up my shoulder, then it’ll be good to go for the next battle. And maybe some laundry.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want a healer to look it over?” Tine asked again. She didn’t want her brother to be putting up a front.

“Like I said, it’s fine,” Arthur replied, and in the same light, energetic tone. “I’ve had much worse.”

* * *

As they continued their campaign through the Manster District, Tine began to notice that she and Arthur were among the only family members that shared a tent. Maybe it made sense, since Tine had joined on her own, so Arthur wanted to make sure she felt safe, instead of staying with the rest of the boys. But when she asked Fee, she gave her a strange look.

“He never slept in a tent before now.” Fee replied. “When we were traveling from Silesse, he would just sleep outside if we didn’t find an inn or a church.”

“He didn’t camp with the other boys?” Tine asked.

Fee shook her head. “Look, it might come as a surprise to you, but Arthur isn’t the friendliest guy around. He gets moody, snaps a lot of the time. He’s great to have by your side in battle, but…” She then sighed, looking a little lost. “Let’s just say that he prefers to keep a distance.” 

“Oh,” Tine replied, because she couldn’t think of a better response than that. 

“It was actually kind of weird,” Fee rubbed the back of her head, taking on a carefree smile. The shift was near jarring, if she didn’t know what masks people put on their face to handle difficult subjects. Tine had seen a variety of those masks, switched in and out on a person. “I first agreed to ferry him because he reminded me of my brother. Maybe it was the wind tome, or how he held himself. But thinking back on it, it was probably me just blinding myself. They couldn’t be any more different.” 

“I hope we find your brother soon, Fee,” Tine said.

“Thanks. Karin told me before I left that she was able to meet him around Manster. Prince Leif mentioned seeing him there last, too. I’m hoping he’s still around those parts. If you see him on the battlefield… well, he’s a mage, with hair like mine, but the differences between us aren’t that clear until you look up close.” She rearranged her bangs. “Even have a similar haircut. It looks better on me, though.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

Fee groaned. “That was a joke, Tine.”

“I-I’m sorry.” 

And then, strangely, Fee laughed. “Don’t worry about it. If you’re curious though, maybe ask Nanna? I noticed she doesn’t camp close to Diarmuid.” 

That was a good idea, though she had been afraid to breach that topic. She had heard of how Lord Bloom had nearly decimated Prince Leif’s troops, and they had occupied the Manster District for over a decade. Alster may have been the only home she could remember, but it didn’t change the feelings of someone who was forced to flee their home and birthright because of her relative’s actions. 

She bid Fee goodbye, and headed for that part of the convoy, willing her knees not to shake. For a moment, she wondered if Sir Seliph would come with her, before shaking her head. Seliph had more important things to do than follow her selfish requests. 

Lady Nanna was everything a princess of war could hope to be: elegant and poised, with her staff in one hand and sword secure on her belt as her steed trotted forward, riding beside Lord Ares. Prince Leif was sitting behind her and Lady Lene behind Ares respectively.

Leif saw her first, or he saw her telltale hair, and Tine’s eyes looked away under the look of anger that passed his face, but when she looked up again, he seemed to recognize her, and his gaze returned to normal.

“Good afternoon, Lady Tine,” Leif called. “Are you doing fine on the march? I’m sure one of the wagons could give you a ride.”

“I’m fine. It’s good to stretch my legs,” Tine gave a proper bow of her head to them. “I wanted to ask if I could speak to Lady Nanna? It’s nothing, really, but something… I’m curious about, and wanted her opinion of it.”

“I would be delighted,” Nanna replied, face strangely open and inviting. Was this another mask?

Nevertheless, she handed her staff to Leif to hold, and dismounted to walk a little ways away with her.

“It’s just… I was speaking with Fee, and it seems like Arthur and I are the only siblings who share a tent.” Tine replied. “And… you seem to stay with Prince Leif or Lord Ares, while Lord Diarmuid stays with the group from Tirnanog.”

“Ah,” Nanna replied, tone even. “Well, I suppose the reason for that is we’re strangers to one another, and have led very different lives at this point.” 

“Because you grew up in the Manster Disctrict, and he in Isaach?” Tine inquired. There were some differences in customs between Alster and Silesse, but Arthur didn’t seem especially religious.

“Because he grew up in Tirnanog, and I grew up… Alster, Tahra, Fiana, nowhere and everywhere,” Nanna replied, and though Tine could only see her face in profile, the tone of her voice grew colder. “Because our mother went to go back for him, and never returned.” Her hand tightened on the pommel of her sword. “And all I was left with was a sword and a title to a place I’ve never been. A place that was promised to me more in dream than reality.” 

She then turned back to look at Tine with a smile. “So, I suppose you can say I’ve learned to make my own dreams.”

It was then they heard the sound of many, many horses, and Nanna had to rush back to her horse. Lord Bloom had brought the battle to them. 

When they reached Conote, she found Arthur standing beside Lord Leif over Lord Bloom’s corpse.

She felt something rise in her throat, like she was choking. Fingers tightening around her neck, just like before--

And then hands covered her eyes. 

“Don’t look,” Febail said, voice clear and composed. He was a mercenary, after all. He had to be comfortable with scenes like this. 

The hands, slowly, disappeared. “I’m… I’m glad you’re okay, Febail.” 

“Be glad Patty and Seliph reached me in time.” Febail said. “Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary tent. We’ll stay there until after they bury the dead.” 

She shouldn’t take up necessary space, but she still felt her legs begin to quake, so she leaned into her old friend’s side, guided there.

* * *

It was nightfall again, before Arthur came to the medical tent. Tine had decided to help Lana and Julia once she felt connected to her body again. It had kept her grounded, keeping herself busy. 

They went outside, and Arthur nervously rubbed his head.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” He said. “I was hoping things would be… settled, before that.”

“It’s okay,” Tine replied. She had known that Lord Bloom would have never surrendered and had to answer for the crimes he made against the people. “I just… I am still too weak.”

“Tine, no, you are not weak,” Arthur turned to her, hands now resting on her shoulders. “You and mother suffered for far too long because of what he did. Just you surviving was incredible.” 

“... Arthur, do you…” Tine gulped, afraid of the truth, of the mask she would see when she asked. “Are you… mad at me, for being the one that got to stay with Mother?”

“What?!” Arthur exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous! You could barely walk when the Friege soldiers came! How could that be your fault?”

“I don’t know. I just… I was afraid, and my mind kept thinking about it. And we share a tent, but you won’t let me go with you to the arena, or stay beside you on the battlefield, and-- and I just, I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“I’ve spent so long trying to find you,” Arthur said, and his mouth crooked up into a smile Tine had learned was completely genuine. “You are the greatest little sister any brother could ask for, and I’m so happy we found each other. … And I want the people that tore our family apart to suffer.” 

Even if they were family too?

But Tine didn’t say this, only hugged her brother, who froze for a moment, then held her tightly, almost too tight. 

But he still didn’t let her go with him to the Arena. 

* * *

“Lady Tine, may I speak with you?”

She looked up from her work sorting through supplies to see Hawk, Lord Ced’s attendant, at the doorway. Febail was resting in a bed close by, sleeping soundly after Lana administered a sleeping drought. Since Julia’s disappearance, she had taken to working in the infirmary more often, and had taken the night shift to watch over him while Lana got some much-needed rest. If Mjolnir had been just a bit more accurate, or if Corpul hadn’t been nearby, Febail could have died. It was like… Ishtar had sought him out. 

“In here. He is out, so you do not need to worry about being overheard,” Tine nodded to a stool resting against the wall. “What can I do for you?”

Hawk went to the stool, which was too close to the ground, and made his knees stick up at level with his stomach. Tine almost asked him if he wanted to find a better chair, but he just continued to look at her with a serious expression. 

“Have you ever seen your brother on the battlefield?”

“No.” 

“Do you know why?” 

Tine shrugged. “I suppose he worried about it being too much for me. Even though I’ve seen battle many times at this point. He’s a little overprotective.”

“... I don’t think that’s the reason, my Lady,” Hawk replied. “... There are… a certain type of people, who fight with ferocity that only comes with a life of violence. He does not go into battle with a clear head, or follows battle plans. It is more that he seeks out the bloodiest parts of the fray, and then makes it bloodier.” 

“What are you saying, Sir Hawk?” Tine asked, thinking of the bloodstained robes, the manic grin. 

“I am saying that you should be careful,” Hawk replied. “Hopefully, this war will one day come to an end, but for Arthur, it never will. He will seek out fights until one day he goes too far, or the flame inside him explodes. Do not be close when it does.”

“What you are describing is less a man and more a monster,” Tine replied, feeling something inside her belly grow hot. “I have met monsters before, Sir Hawk. I know who they are, how they act. My brother is not one.”

Hawk’s mouth opened, then shut. He looked at his hands. “Still, be careful.”

“If that is all you have to say, you can leave, Sir Hawk,” Tine’s voice was hard and cold. “I have work to do.”

* * *

The night before the Liberation Army are supposed to cross the channel, Tine has that nightmare again. Hands on her wrists, growing far, far too hot, the smell of smoke and burnt flesh, until those hands came up to her neck.

_ Ungrateful, worthless, pathetic--! _

The hands tightened, too tight for her to plead  _ Aunt Hilda, I’ll be better. I’ll do better, don’t kill me, don’t kill me--! _

* * *

_ “Tine!”  _

Tine’s eyes opened, and she found herself in the bed she was given while in Miletos, the burning feeling ebbing away, her eyes looking up at the concerned blue of Seliph’s.

“Is… is there something wrong?” Tine asked, trying to push away the nightmares. She didn’t want Seliph to see her like that. She had worked so hard to be stronger than it, but to go to Grannvale made those horrible thoughts return. 

“I was walking down the hallway, and I heard noise come from your room. It sounded like you were choking.” Seliph turned. “I came in, and I was trying to wake you up.”

Tine looked down at Seliph’s hands, cupping around hers. Both of them were not wearing gloves, and she snatched her hands away, but the damage was already done.

“... How did you get those burns?”

“... Lady Hilda.” Tine bit out, and she felt something hot press against her eyes, only to find that she was crying. “Don’t make me say anymore, please.” 

She expected Seliph to pull away, to leave her, instead he pulled forward, and pulled her from the covers into his arms.

“You don’t have to say anymore,” Seliph whispered. “All that I ask is that you not send me away.”

Tine didn’t know why, but she began to cry harder, and clutched to him. The strange feelings of joy and anxiety and sorrow all coming out. 

It might have been a trick of the candlelight, but she thought she saw a shadow pass the door, and then move away. 

* * *

They cross the channel and make it to Chalphy. Seliph dealt the killing blow against Emperor Arvis, but not without help from Ced, who suffered grave injuries in the battle. When Hawk remained by his lord’s side while Fee had to attend to other duties, Tine decided to forgive him for his words. It would do no good to hold anger against allies.

As the tacticians drew plans to march toward Bellhalla, Arthur came to her again. Since they had been staying in more castles, they had not shared a tent for a few weeks now. They had grown so busy that they hardly got to speak.

“Tine, stick close to Sir Seliph during this battle,” Arthur told her. “I already asked him, and he agreed if you did. You two have gotten close, so it’s better for you to stay together through this.”

Tine frowned. “Where will you be?”

Arthur grinned, though there was no humor in it. It was more a mask to distract her from the flames in his eyes. “I’ll bring you Hilda’s head.”

It was then that Tine realized that, maybe, Hawk had an idea of what her brother was capable of.

“... We should face her together. For what she did to Mother.”

And she now knew what she was capable of as well. The wrath they inherited, Fjalar and Thrud. Such blood could consume them, and all that they held dear.

So when they are in sight of Friege, Tine turned to Seliph.

“I have to go.” 

Seliph reached out, and held her hand. She could see the conflict, the fear in his eyes. But then, his grip slackened.

“Come back to me.” He said. “No matter what.”

“I promise.” And she would keep that promise. 

She saw Hilda raise Bolganone high as Arthur charged forward on his horse, raising his sword high. She sends her attack, and the flash of recognition and fury in Hilda’s eyes, just as the sword runs her through. 

In the aftermath of the battle, he turned to her, looking at her with a question in his eyes.

“We both hold a wrath in us that cannot be easily extinguished, Arthur.” Tine said. “But I do not want that to consume us.”

“... You were afraid that if I was the only one that…” Arthur closed his eyes, and let out a small exhale. “Maybe you’re right about that. To be honest, I can’t let it go. I’ve spent so much time surviving with it, I can’t see another way.” 

They opened then, and looking the most tired she had ever seen him, none of the manic energy remaining, even with Hilda’s corpse among the dead. “Do you think I’m a lost cause?”

“Never,” Tine said, and she was speaking the truth. “But, I think it will be harder for you. And I don’t know if I can be the person to help you through it.”

“And you shouldn’t be,” Arthur replied. “... Heh, I am really glad we got to meet, Tine.”

“I am too, Arthur,” Tine answered. 

They tried so hard to cling to each other when they found one another, but maybe that was not the way to go. 

The new path ahead of them was still filled with obstacles and uncertainties, but it would be better to face it with eyes forward, rather than looking back. 

* * *

“Hawk, I could walk on my own.” Ced said, but Hawk just placed him in the cot Lana had set up for him. They made one of the dining halls in the castle an infirmary. Based on Friege’s position, forces in the south and the east could make it back here in much faster time than at Chalphy. 

“My lord, I ask that you remain in bed until we find the proper cure for your burns.”

“You know that is not how this works,” Ced replied, wincing as he waved his arm, showing the still glowing scars. “And I talked with… King Lewyn. He confirmed that Julia could lift it, but we still don’t know her whereabouts.”

“We will find Julia.” Lana said, voice firm, but Tine saw how her hand slightly shook, and she took it in hers.

“We will. No matter what it takes.” Tine replied. 

“If my lord is settled, I have to return to the field.” Hawk bowed, but instead of sending him off, he beckoned him closer, until he was kneeling beside the bed.

Both Lana and Tine focused on setting up the infirmary, but they could still hear their voice.

“Hawk, remember what I said. You are not allowed to perish.”

“As you wish… Ced.” 

Then with a final bow to Lana and Tine and a swish of his cloak, Hawk walked out of the infirmary. 

They continued with their work, but eventually, Lana had to give Ced a potion to ease his pain as she administered more ointment to his burns. Unlike regular burns, the ones from Valflame continued to remain long after. The ointment simply prevented them from spreading. It did little for the pain. 

That was what Lana told her as they created the paste. Once Ced was settled, all they could do now was wait for more injured to come in. Tine made what remained of the Isaachsian tea blend, and they sat down on a free cot with their cups. 

“How do you know about treating these burns?” Tine asked. “It seems oddly specific.”

“My mother experienced a lot of magical based burns and poisons while traveling in Sir Sigurd’s campaign,” Lana answered, then took a sip of her tea, the steam made her face difficult to see. “It was also how she was able to make it to Tirnanog. Without it, she would have succumbed to Valflame’s hellfire.”

Tine’s eyes widened. “Lady Edain… she has burns like Ced’s?”

Lana nodded. “Across her back, all the way up to her neck. She keeps her hair short so they won’t get irritated. When I told her that I wanted to become a healer, she taught me how to make the ointment, and then had me apply it to her wounds. It was… horrible.” 

She laughed. “I’ve seen so much worse now, but thinking back on it, it's horrifying to learn that your parents aren’t invincible. That they bleed, and burn, just like anyone else.” 

Tine looked down at the depths of her cup. She remembered a day when her mother didn’t smile, and never smiled again afterward. 

“It is.”

“But,” Lana continued. “She gave me my first lesson. That I would have to tend to injuries just like this, that even staff work cannot completely heal, that some faith cannot work against. It was Ullir’s luck that saved her, but not everyone has it. And that if I was to be a healer, I had to learn that lesson.” 

“Does Lester know?”

Lana shrugged. “He knows about the scars, but I don’t think he’s ever seen them. It’s… funny, I pity him, but I’m also jealous of him. He grew up with plenty of burdens, but this one is only mine. To know the brunt of our mother’s suffering.”

And, in that moment, Tine felt the guilt of seeing her mother die lessen, just a little. 

“When we find Julia, we’ll find a way to heal Ced,” Tine replied, voice firm. Because the war would end, and they would all heal. “And then we’ll go to Tirnanog, and bring Lady Edain home to Jungby.”

“... Yes.” Lana replied, rapidly blinking her eyes as if trying to hold back tears. 

“Yes.” Tine echoed.

And there they remained in the infirmary, with their tea, awaiting their next charge. Be it brother, lover, or friend, they would be ready for what followed. 


End file.
